I See Dead Eyes On The Verge Of Suicide | Powfu | Dead Eyes | English Song

Bring out your dead Bring me their heads An execution is at hand These are you false prophets selling you Armageddon These are the ones who are telling you that you are safe These are the ones who are taking your life away Day by day we cleanse the world of evil Yet, the blood is still on our hands Buried beneath the prayers of dead men And when there's nothing left There will be no one left to peel the guilt from our backs A flaw so fatal to our own survival Failure in the flesh Day by day we cleanse the world of evil Yet, the blood is still on our hands

The day is gone The time is come You battled hard The war is wone You did your worst You tried your best Now it's time to rest See the fire in your eyes (Ahh)...

Right outside this lazy summer home You ain't got time to call your soul a critic no Right outside the lazy gate of winter's summer home Wonderin' where the nut-thatch winters Wings a mile long just carried the bird away Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world The heart has its beaches, its homeland and thoughts of its own Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings But the heart has its seasons, its evenins and songs of its own There comes a redeemer, and he slowly too fades away And there follows his wagon behind him that's loaded with clay And the seeds that were silent all burst into bloom, and decay And night comes so quiet, it's close on the heels of the day Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world The heart has its beaches, its homeland and thoughts of its own Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings The heart has its seasons, its evenin's and songs of its own Sometimes we live no particular way but our own And sometimes we visit your country and live in your home Sometimes we ride on your horses, sometimes we walk alone Sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world The heart has its beaches, its homeland and thoughts of its own Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings But the heart has its seasons, its evenin's and songs of its own